Immutable
by WitchyGirl99
Summary: You feel his gaze on your neck and it burns you up inside. InuKag, the second!verse.


**Author's Note:** As promised, works from my website will be slowly posted here.

 _Immutable_ is technically the third part of the Second!Verse _(Irrevocable_ as the first and _Ineluctable_ as the second). I don't think you really need to read them but, considering they're not overly long, it's probably best to do so.

The goal of this story was to play with timelines in one endless, unstoppable take (with bonus second!pov). This, by no means, is perfect but my heart is kind of in love with this verse.

 **Warning:** This is more or less one long, emotional lemon. If sexual content is not your thing: turn back my darling.

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 **Immutable**

 _Part III of the Second!Verse_

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You can't believe this is happening. You don't know where it started, or how, or when– It just is. And that's the funny thing, the thing that hits you the most. This thing between you is never going to end. You don't want it to, you _never_ want it to, but you both said your goodbyes, your apologies, your declarations.

"Don't stop, don't stop."

And you keen, writhe, moan and arch your back, anything to draw yourself closer. Your brain is assaulted with emotions that you thought were left behind, assaulted with feelings and pleasure and _oh_ –

How did this happen? You try to think. You try to push your brain away from the other part of you that's simply feeling and enjoying, that has your arms around his neck, hands in his hair, body pressed desperately against his. The heat of skin on skin is sinful, alluring, but you try to remember because this is important. You know it is.

A party. You know it started there, know that it was unexpected. It wasn't your party – _no_ , it was a friend's, someone your parents knew. Your parents who have desperately tried to climb the social ladder to get somewhere, to _prove_ something that you've never understood. But here they are, dressed in the finest of clothing, makeup and accessories. You're dolled up and prettied, and this time your mother fusses more than usual, more than she ought to for just a party.

"Kagome, Kagome–"

You can't help but say his name. _Inuyasha. Inuyasha_. And was that in your head? On your lips? Did you kiss it into his skin, feel it crawl underneath and bury itself there? Because here he is – your Inuyasha, the one you love, the one you lost – and this is happening, this is really happening.

But the party– _That_ party. Your parents have been talking to the hosts forever, but you've been too busy trying not to puke. _He's_ there, _Inuyasha's_ there. He's with his bride-to-be according to his parents. He's of too high a status for your kind and it makes you miserable. That night in the forest when you waited for him was the first night he told you he loved you. One month later you're standing on a balcony, his blood on your hands because you punched him, because his wedding had just been announced. There had been nothing you could do. Nothing you could do. Nothing _either_ of you could do.

But you're still broken by it. Still hurting.

"I love you." You think you say it. You think so, but you're not too sure. Everything is blazing in your mind, new sensations rocking your body. Your toes curl, chest heaves and tongue licks. Inuyasha's right there, like he never left.

But he did.

And at this party you tried to ignore him. His beautiful fiancée is perfect and rich and far too kind. She's elegant in a way you've always envied, a way you know you'll never be. You busy yourself with drinks, eyeing the parents' wine glasses with disdain. It's during the wish that maybe you could take one that the announcement is made, your father standing proudly beside your mother. The hosts – the Ueda family, who were rich and beautiful and kind too – stand beside them and you don't know what's going on.

But you feel his gaze on your neck and it burns you up inside.

Just like you're burning now. Inuyasha is whispering in your ears, saying things, promising things, murmuring things you simply can't make out. You don't want to – heaven knows you don't want to hear a thing – because this is going to hurt in the morning. Physically, mentally, emotionally you'll be broken, but it's the furthest thought from your mind when he thrusts into you deep, making your back arch, your throat tilt, your eyes roll. You scream his name, maybe sob it. There might be tears in your eyes, you can't be sure because it's all too much, too much, too much, too much–

Hojo Ueda and Kagome Higurashi, to be bound by union and trust, forever and ever. It makes your head hurt, your eyes blink and your throat constrict. You don't know what you're doing. You're in the middle of the room – why are you in the middle of the room? – and Hojo is there, a few years older but a gentle soul, quiet. You like him fine the few times you've met him, but to be _bound_?

Marriage, you realize, and it hits you hard, hits you fast. Like a punch to the gut that you weren't expecting, a freight train that doubles you over and keeps rolling, rolling. And there is clapping now, cheering – an appropriate amount for a party of such status. And you realize what this is. It's a status symbol, a reason to push your family up from the ashes. The Ueda family has always been close to yours through childhood friendships but this. _This_.

"You're mine," Inuyasha says now, and he sounds like he's been ripped open. He sounds hurt and pained and wrecked. His hands turn rough on your skin, teeth biting too sharp, hips slamming too hard. And you don't know what you want, but it's not entirely this. There's salt on your neck, salt and water and those are tears and _why_. Why is this happening?

You think. You think hard.

He's watching you, staring at you from somewhere in the crowd and in one moment of weakness you look his way. It's the worst decision of your life because he looks like he's breaking. He's so still, so tense and his golden eyes aren't allowing you to look away. This can't be good, everyone must know. No one ever knew of your affair, of your love.

And as the music replays you're forced into a dance with Hojo. He smiles and holds you properly and shyly whispers to you. You can't help but smile a little because he is so kind, and you barely know him, so why be cruel? It's not his fault. From the wild-eyed look he lets slip when he turns his head, you can tell he's as shocked and jolted as you are.

The music ends after an eternity, and your body feels warm from Hojo's embrace. Not hot like when it was in Inuyasha's, but that's over now. It's _over_ , why are you thinking about it? Why are you letting these memories get to you?

"Mine, mine, mine, mine," he says, over and over like a mantra as he thrusts into you. It's like if he doesn't stop it will somehow come true. Underneath him you relax now, you open your arms, you tug him in. Because from the tears on your neck you know he's lost. He's scared like you are. He's forced into a marriage like you are and none of this was ever supposed to happen. You were supposed to live happily ever after. You were supposed to own a small house, spend lazy evenings looking at the stars and weaving stories of brave heroics. You were supposed to have children eventually, maybe one or two – or four or five – and when the time came you were going to return to your families to say goodbye for real.

"Always yours," you whisper, because it's true. No matter what happens, no matter how your heart is breaking and bleeding and crying – you will _always_ been his.

You don't think about the tears falling down your own face, not even as Inuyasha hugs you so close you can barely breath, barely see, drowning and lost and captured and _loved_ –

But that party, that dance, that shock. You excuse yourself from the room because you desperately need some air. Your mother gives you a stern look. Your father is completely impassive. You head for the bathroom, knowing where it is from earlier though it seems quite busy. There are women loitering in the hall, loud and giggly and when they spot you they smile. It's a secret, something only they can share, but you can't be bothered. You push past the bathroom doors because _this_ you can't deal with. Not now. God, not now.

You get five steps away. Ten. Twenty. Where are you? What hall is this? But you can't be bothered, can't care enough to try and find your way back. You want to be lost, because that's how you feel. Everything's confusing and messed up and rolling around in your chest like a raging storm. This wasn't meant to happen. None of this was to ever come true.

And then there's a hand on your wrist, tugging you back. You fight instinctively but the grip is strong, the chest you're pulled against hard and muscled, and you can't fight it. You can't fight him because you've never wanted to. You relax and want to sob. You want this to be some horrible nightmare because him being torn away was bad enough, but now there are equal forces on either sides, both of them fighting for the same outcome.

"Please don't cry," he says softly to you and you nod, because you'll do anything for him. You've waited for him. You'll always wait for him, even though he's never going to come back. Now, it seems like you never will either.

Inuyasha drags you to a room. It's just a room, with a lock and a bed and something hanging on a chair. You don't much pay attention, don't much know where you are but you trust Inuyasha like he's the only thing in the world that matters. Time stands still as he holds you again, and this is just like back in the forest, back to the time when he was there and loving and the two of you only had yourselves. This is your world again, a world you thought you'd never have the taste of once more. Oh how you've missed it. Oh how you've missed him.

When he kisses you, everything else just melts away.

And now you lay, sated and sticky and terrified. Because this is you, this is your world, and it's going to slip through your fingers once more. Just like the other party, the other room, when he told you to let go and you didn't have a choice. But you never did let go, you never stopped waiting.

Apparently, he never did either.

Inuyasha stares at you then, soft golden eyes hurting in a way you've never seen. This is worse than before, worse than anything ever inflicted. Here are the two of you, star-crossed lovers never to be joined. This can't happen, it can't.

"Wait for me," you whisper. It's seems appropriate, even though there's nothing to wait for. Your marriage? His? What is there to wait for in a world like this, a world with no happiness, no promises, no ever afters?

"Forever," he answers.

It's not long before he leaves. You can't leave together, surely not with the people moving around. No one should be this deep in the house anyways but there's always the chance. Inuyasha's dressed and gone and looking the same perfect way he always does. Your heart hurts painfully at the thought that he'll return to her, to Kikyo. She's a woman you don't hate, but envy and cry over. Because she has everything you want and everything you can't have.

The people back in the main room are still happy and dancing and lively like they were before anything happened, before Inuyasha happened. You avoid your parents because you can't bear to have them see you. You avoid Hojo because he's too kind, too nice, and he doesn't deserve any of this. You head over for drinks but realize that he's there – Inuyasha's there – so you stop, fumble, wonder what to do.

It's a cruel thing of fate when he looks at you. All you want to do is run away, to fall to your knees, to hold him and kiss him and let the rest of the world be damned. He stares at you, smirks like you so dearly remember, and then offers you a flute of something rich and red. The napkin underneath catches the moisture beading on the glass, and Inuyasha gives you hollow congratulations before leaving again.

You turn, you watch him and then catch yourself enough to tear your eyes away. Your hands are shaking, oh god you're shaking, and you crumple the napkin, put down the liquid and wonder how you're going to make it until the end of this horror. There are tears in your eyes, you're horrified enough to admit, so you open the napkin to fix yourself when you see black scribbles and wretched handwriting.

You'd know that scrawl anywhere.

 _I'll wait for you forever, but I don't want to wait anymore._

Your mind spins, the room vanishes along with the noise, and this is everything you hoped for and nothing you ever dared to dream.

 _Pack light. You know where and when._

You do. It makes you want to laugh out loud because you _do_ , and this is _real_.

"Kagome, are you alright?"

Your mother's voice makes you jump, makes you crumple the napkin and squish it in your palm. Her brown eyes are regarding you curiously, like she knows something is different but she can't quite figure it out. You tamp down on your feelings, your emotions, every single sense that is driven to the silver-haired man at the other end of the room.

You can wait. You've always waited.

You always will and this is no different.

"Yes Mother, I'm fine."

And after tonight, you may never have to wait again.

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 **Thanks in advance for putting up with me *hugs***

 **Feedback is love.**


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